Sherlock: Words Left Unsaid 2
by MissSherlockHieiHolmes
Summary: Chapter two of "Words Left Unsaid".


"I just want you to know that I think this is incredibly stupid, Sherly, and for someone so brilliant, you really are an idiot," Mycroft said to me, handing me a military issued cap. I stood with my brother, dressed in a brand new military uniform. My hair had been cut and was no longer curly around my head. Instead, it was short, flat against my skull and I really didn't like that. My hair had been the same for years I didn't change it. Now that it was suddenly cropped, it felt strange, but I snatched the cap from Mycroft and placed it on my head regardless of him telling me how stupid I was being.

"Yes, Mycroft, thank you for your input, but why would I waste all the effort you've put into getting me to Afghanistan?" I asked, sarcasm heavy in my voice. Mycroft wasn't very appreciative of my tone, but he just waved me off like he always did. In my brother's eyes, I would always be twelve. I would always be the brother who needed constant monitoring because I was a threat to him. I could plot out the way anyone's mind worked inside my head, like each person was a file stretched out in front of my eyes. Mycroft was no different; he was just more intelligent than the average person. He was still rather ordinary.

In his annoyance with me (something that never really faded, mind you, it was a mutual feeling between us) he grabbed my arm and tugged me out of his "office". His grip was tight, like he was trying to hurt me, but there was a light tremor in his arm. I could feel it so easily and I knew that he was just putting up his emotional defenses. There was no way that my older brother would ever admit it, but he was terrified for me. I wasn't just taking a holiday, I was going to be dropped into an active warzone and I was going to be a real soldier. The possibility of death was very real. I knew that, I didn't care. My life didn't actually matter; I didn't value it, just as Moriarty never valued his. We were both reckless, willing to do whatever we had to do to prove ourselves right or accomplish our goals.

Mycroft didn't understand why I had to do this, but he was afraid for me anyway. We had our childish feuds and pointless arguments that we would just never get over because that was just how we were, but we were brothers. Really, we were the only family left and in a very reserved and unspoken way, we cared about each other. Mycroft came off as heartless, in fact, we both did, but we both knew that how we portrayed ourselves were not the same as who we really were underneath the ice. We weren't emotional people, we never were and never would be, but that didn't mean that we didn't possess them.

We just had the ability to separate our emotions from our lives and our minds.

Outside there was a helicopter waiting for me. "You'll be dropped just outside of the country and there you will meet the rest of your troop. You have been enlisted as an officer named Stanly Cooper and you will be required to act like the rest of the soldiers so… Don't be yourself, basically," Mycroft explained as he tugged me over to the helicopter. He didn't let go until I was actually climbing into the aircraft. Mycroft was trying to hide his emotions, but his body language gave him away. He didn't want to let go of me. He didn't want to let me go to Afghanistan but his worry wasn't enough to keep me from leaving. Staying in London wasn't bringing me any closer to finding John and Mycroft just wasn't as important as my lost friend. "Do you want me to go with you, Sherly?" Mycroft asked. He didn't want to see me go, but since our parents were dead, he felt this intense need to take care of me, so he felt like he had to offer to hold my hand.

Everything was just too obvious, even Mycroft.

"I don't need you to hold my hand, Mycroft. I'm an adult and I know what I'm doing. Don't belittle me," I told him, frowning just a little. It should have meant a lot more to me that my older brother was worried, that he wanted to see me off because he wanted to protect me until the last possible moment, but it didn't mean much to me. Mycroft was a lot of things, including an overprotective brother, but his awful qualities still outshined his decent ones. There were some things even I couldn't get past.

"You aren't an adult, Sherlock, you're a twelve year old stuck in a man's body," he said, reaching up to take my hand. He looked, mostly, calm but his hands were still trembling, his eyes shining with his true feelings about the situation. "Why can't you just swallow your pride and let me come with you? I won't try to talk you out of this because I know that won't work. You're too thick headed for that but as your brother, I want to go with you."

"I don't want you to come, Mycroft," I said, rather coldly. I shouldn't have been so cruel to the person who was currently helping me, but it was just how I was. I was a loner, being alone protected me and I didn't need to let anyone, not even my brother, get too close to me. I had already made that mistake with Dr. John Watson and I was now lost without him at my side. I tried to return to work but solving case after case just didn't give me the satisfaction it used to. I tried to pretend like John never came into my life, but he was the one person who tore down every single one of my defenses. He was the only person who ever made me feel human and now that I was without him, I felt cold and numb.

_Broken._

Mycroft stared at me for a few moments, the tiniest shimmer of agony gleaming in his eyes and I sighed, holding his hand for a moment. "It will be even harder for you to see me join a troop, Mycroft," I said, attempting to spare his feelings since he was getting me to where I needed to be. Without him, getting into Afghanistan would be an extremely tedious chore, though I would have been able to do it eventually. "When I get to where I need to be, I'm going to disappear from the troop. You'll get a letter saying I was missing in action. Ignore it unless it gives you a detailed description of how I died. I will get in contact with you as soon as I can."

A tiny smile crossed Mycroft's lips but his expression didn't really change. He thought that I couldn't see how upset he was, but it was written all over his face despite the smile. "Please at least let me know that you're all right. Don't let me think you're dead because I'll kill you myself if you let me believe my brother was killed in a war," he said, holding my hand tightly for a moment before he let go of my hand.

The door was closed and sealed as the helicopter's blades started rotating with an intense roaring noise. I drowned it out, really. A plane would have been faster, more ideal, but getting onto a flight and through customs would have been much more difficult when Mycroft could basically get me a helicopter to myself. There was only a pilot with me because obviously the helicopter wasn't going to fly itself. That technology did exist though. People were just too afraid of advancement.

The ride took longer than I would have liked but I couldn't be in a rush, not now. I had to be patient because I had to blend in as a soldier. I spent most of the helicopter ride in my Mind Palace, pulling up every single memory I had stored of John. Every conversation we had ever had, every fight, every reunion, every case we had solved together and all of the non-date dates we had been on. I also went over the information about his deployment and his disappearance. Everything that I had learned through research and interviews came up in front of me like a massive computer screen that surrounded me. No one really understood my thinking process, but how could I ever expect normal people to understand that my mind was basically like a super computer but it worked twice as efficiently.

I never heard the pilot say that we were landing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. I heard him; I just didn't respond to him or process what he said. When I was buried in my Mind Palace, I focused on nothing else because nothing else mattered. I didn't come back to what other people would call "reality" until the helicopter was on the ground and the pilot was shaking me by the shoulder. "Mr. Holmes, we're here," he kept repeating.

Under normal circumstances, I hated being pulled out of my Palace like that, but this situation was different. I didn't have time to sit around and dwell on my thoughts; I had a troop to join and a best friend to find. "Thank you," I said as the pilot went to the door and pulled it open. He jumped down and I followed suit. He would be taking me to my commanding officer, explain the special situation of my arrival and then leave me to return to Mycroft so he could let my brother know that I was delivered safely. Basically, I was more of a package than a person at this point.

Thankfully we didn't have far too go. Normally I didn't mind walking or running, but I was anxious to just get out into the field as soon as I could. Specifically I selected this particular troop when I first went to Mycroft for help because I knew that this group would be travelling right past where John had disappeared. I just had to play my cards right once we got to the right spot. The scenario would have to seem like I disappeared just like John did and my hope was that in doing so, I would find John or at least find some sort of clue that would lead me to him.

The idea that John wasn't dead had solidified in my mind as fact. I wasn't irrational, I didn't jump to conclusions but I had done enough investigating to be sure that John wasn't dead. I had ruled out the explanation that John was dead and what was left had to have been true, even if it sounded ridiculous. John was alive and something horrible had happened to him… Knowing that he was alive wasn't good enough for me. I needed to have John back in 221B Baker Street with me. I needed to find him and get him out of whatever had happened to him two and a half years ago.

"So this is the newest recruit, eh?" the sergeant asked while the pilot led me to the man. Of course I would have found him on my own, but I had to follow procedures now, not that I truly wanted to. "Mr. Stanly Cooper?" I held myself tall and straight. My posture was usually great but now it had to be perfect.

"Yes sir," I said, looking at him with a sort of indifferent look. Most soldiers looked terrified when they went off to war. I'd seen it time and time again but I was only haunted by one deployment in general; John's deployment.

"Mycroft Holmes has already gotten into contact with me, explained the entire situation. The only reason I agreed to this is because I believe you will be a great addition to our team," the man said to me. He used the word team as if we were all supposed to care for each other, but in a warzone, individual lives didn't matter. One person lost wasn't a tragedy. One million people lost were just a statistic. I always believed this to be true, at least until John was taken from me. Losing John to a "war" was a tragedy for me. John made me understand how the rest of the world thought. He made me feel love and happiness. He made me feel like I needed him and not that my loneliness was my greatest safety. "I expect a lot out of you, Cooper, and welcome to the troop."

"Thank you, sir, I won't disappoint," I assured my commanding officer. Mycroft had given me a rather generous title of weapons expert and designer. I wanted to keep a low profile, so I wasn't entirely thrilled that I was supposed to play such an important role in the military, but in a few weeks' time, it wouldn't matter. No officer would agree to take an ordinary soldier under such strange circumstances, so I had to play along. Soon I would be gone, they would all forget about Stanly Cooper and I would be that much closer to finding John.

"Follow me then," he said and he turned, walking without looking back to see if I was following. I didn't bid the pilot goodbye and I didn't give him anything to tell my brother, I simply followed the sergeant.

_Soon, John, just hold on._


End file.
